


Gloves

by DiamondWinters



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 21:58:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13533378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiamondWinters/pseuds/DiamondWinters
Summary: Gloves, that was the one accessory most people had. Gloves. He wasn’t sure why. Why would they shield themselves from finding their other half, their perfect match, their soulmate?





	Gloves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [magical_mistral](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magical_mistral/gifts).



> In this soulmate au, a person's skin will burst with color that matches their soulmates personality the moment they first touch. 
> 
> This story is for [Magical_mistral](http://archiveofourown.org/users/magical_mistral) for her birthday!

People watching was by far one of Phichit’s favorite things to do when he wasn’t on the ice. He’d find a spot where he could observe the entire room and just … watch.  
  
Gloves, that was the one accessory most people had. Gloves. He wasn’t sure why. Why would they shield themselves from finding their other half, their perfect match, their soulmate?  
  
His mother explained it was because not everyone got to find their one true mate. So they would settle for someone else. Fall in love, and wear gloves to protect them from ever finding the one they were ‘supposed’ to be with.  
  
His mother was also married to her soulmate, but his grandparents had always worn gloves.  
  
He had witnessed soulmates finding each other a few times. When he was a child, a classmate had chosen to take their gloves off, but in the process dropped their pencil on the floor. As they reached for it, so did another, who never wore gloves, and their fingers collided. He watched as the color sprang to life, like a bright, festive bomb exploding across their digits. Pink on his fingers, orange on hers.  
  
They got married a year after they graduated.  
  
Gloves were a normal part of a skaters costume. But then again, gloves were just a normal part of life when you travel the world and have hordes of screaming fans trying desperately to touch you. Hoping their skin would burst with bright colors staking their claim.  
  
Phichit loved to watch the other skaters, all of them wore gloves. Some were white, others had black. Brown was a popular color. Phichit liked the black kind with the little pads on the end so he could keep them on as he used his phone.  
  
It came as no surprise when Yuuri returned home after Sochi with his hand covered in purple and no story as to how it got that way. Not long after he started hearing rumors about the banquet, and what had transpired.  
  
Yuuri tried to ignore it, focus on his school, skating, anything but the purple that stained his skin of his right hand. It would work for most of the time, but Phichit would find his friend staring at the darkened skin, in a sort of a dreamy daze, wondering if he knew what caused it and wasn’t telling, or if he honestly doesn’t remember.  
  
It took nearly a year, and a certain five-time world champion showing up in Japan, for him to finally get the full story.  
  
Phichit wasn’t sure if he loved or hated his gloves. On one hand, by wearing them, he didn’t have to worry about some crazy fan trying to grab for him, he didn’t have to find time for someone when he needed to focus on himself, but on the other hand, he would often find his off time lonely. Especially now that Yuuri was gone, and had found his own soulmate.  
  
It was 2017, and the Grand Prix was being hosted Nagoya, Japan. Yuuri was in his element, happy, yet nervous to be skating in his home country for the gold medal. The final six was Victor, Yuuri, Yuri, Christophe, Seung-gil and himself. The rest had given them a good fight, but they were the final contenders.  
  
Phichit was people watching again. Sitting in the lobby of the hotel room, in the one chair that allowed him to watch everyone that came and went.  
  
Chris was leaning against the counter with his coach and choreographer as they checked in. He held a cup adorned with a green merlady, and when he turned threw a wink Phichit’s way, which the Thai man smiled at before taking a picture of his friend.  
  
Yuri was slumped over another chair across from him, head resting on one arm, while his legs swung over the other as the angsty teen scrolled through whatever app he happened to be on. He wore fingerless gloves. Not sure why it’s not like the splash of gold on his hand isn’t noticeable. Yuuri and Victor were probably somewhere else, someplace more private and that didn’t require the use of gloves.  
  
The doors swooshed open, and Seung-gil entered with his coach, large suitcases getting towed behind them.  
  
Black. Seung-gil always wore black gloves. Sometimes they sparkled, like last years during his free skate. He took a quick picture of the Koren man just as he looked over. It made for a great profile shot.  
  
The competition was fierce, a new record was made, while an old one was broken. This time Phichit was closer to the podium. Fourth wasn’t anything to sneeze at and he could live with it. Meant that next year, he was for sure going to make it up there. Especially since Yuuri let it slip, in confidence, that Victor planned on retiring after the Olympics. So if 2018 isn’t his year, 2019 was for sure. He held on to that thought as he got ready for the banquet.  
  
Everyone was there, all the skaters, their coaches, the sponsors. Same banquet, different year. Really, they could at least try to change things up a bit to keep it from getting monotonous.  
  
Chris was smoozing with a sponsor from a Germany car company. Victor and Yuuri were all smiles, dancing slowly to the light music coming from the wall speakers. Bare hand in bare hand. Yuri was trying to sneak away from his coach, but Yakov would catch him, and subtly pull him back to the conversation. Phichit couldn’t help but grin behind his glass of champagne.  
  
His eyes scanned the room as he looked for the other dark-haired Grand Prix finalist, but couldn’t find him anywhere in the room. Then he noticed that the balcony doors were open a crack, and realized where the man must have slipped off too.  
  
Knocking back what was left of his drink, then grabbing two fresh glasses he made his way over to the slightly private space of the small balcony behind the darkened glass doors.  
  
Sure enough, his semi-friend was standing there, leaning on the edge, as a slight breeze made his inky black hair lift a little around his head when the air picked up. A slight smile tugged at his lips. In a sad, happy sort of way.  
  
“Champagne?” Phichit offered as he came to stand by the other man.  
  
Seung-gil stood up straighter, his expression going blank at the sudden appearance of an intruder to his moment of quiet.  
  
Seung-gil started to reach out but stopped. “I’m not wearing my gloves,” he said, and sure enough his hands were bare. “Let me put them on first,” and reached for them in his pockets.  
  
“It’s fine, I’m wearing mine,” Phichit smiled and offered the flute to the other again.  
  
Seung-gil took the drink with a small thanks and they both turned to look out at the beautiful city before them.  
  
“Are those the kind with the touch screen pads?” Seung-gil asked after a few minutes of silence.  
  
“Yes. They’re very good quality too. You have to make sure to get the good ones. I’ve had cheaper ones where you have to press really hard to make it work. Nearly broke a phone screen once,” Phichit rambled.  
  
“What’s the difference?”    
  
“Here, look. It’s the special padding they use. I got these from a sponsorship,” Phichit pulled one of his gloves off. He planned on laying it on the edge of the balcony for Seung-gil to take.  
  
However, just as his hand made it halfway from him to the ledge, soft skin brushed up against his as fingertips brushed fingertips.  
  
They both stood stock still. Neither moving. Eyes wide, in both fear, and excitement. The last time Phichit has felt the touch of another human was right before Yuuri left for Hasetsu. They had dared to find out if they were meant for one another a few months after becoming roommates. Otherwise, it would become far to difficult to live with someone you couldn’t touch. They were both relieved, and at least on Phichit’s end, slightly disappointed to find they were not meant for one another.  
  
The black glove that hid their fingers slowly slipped from their grasp and with a silent flutter, dropped to the floor.  
  
Feeling his heart beat so hard he thought it might beat out of his chest, Phichit looked down to where they still touched.  
  
He wasn’t sure if it was his gasp or Seung-gils, but an audible noise was heard when they both looked to find that it looked as if they had chosen to finger paint instead of pass an article of clothing.  
  
There, splashed up two of his fingers, was a beautiful bright blue, in contrast to the beautiful red that trailed up Seung-gils.  
  
“I … Uh…” Phichit was, for once in his life, at a loss for words.  
  
“My mother will want to meet you,” was Seung-gils response.  
  
He felt his lips twitch. He couldn’t help it, the moment was ridiculous. Here he was, twenty-one years old, acting like a silly, blushing, grade-schooler. And he knew he was blushing, as his face felt like it was five levels of fire. Like the first soulmates, he had seen. And all his soulmate could say about this situation was that he had to meet his mother.  
  
The twitch turned into a stifled snicker, which eventually broke free into a giggle, followed by a hearty laugh. Thankfully, the man before him felt the same and joined in the mirth.  
  
Once they got it all out of their system, for the most part, Phichit removed his other glove and let it join its own mate on the floor.  
  
They examined their colored fingers for a moment, each smiling before dark eyes met dark eyes.  
  
“I’m glad it’s you,” Phichit was shocked.  
  
“What? Really?”  
  
“Yes,” Seung-gil confirmed. A real smile graced his features, one, that in all his people watching, Phichit had never seen before. It was rather beautiful. “You’re everything I’m not, but I would like to think that instead of clashing, we would compliment each other.”  
  
“Like Ying and Yang,” Phichit offered and Seung-gil nodded.  
  
“I like that,” and he did. The more he thought about it, the more he knew he was going to enjoy getting to know his soulmate more.  
  
They smiled at each other, and it was then that there was a sudden outburst of loud music from the inner room.  
  
“Sounds like there might be another dance off. Want to go watch?” Phichit asked, offering his hand.  
  
“Yes,” Seung-gil took his hand in return.  
  
They walked hand, in naked hand, back into the banquet hall to watch the, now traditional, dance off between the Yuris.  
  
And on the floor laying left behind and quickly forgotten, were two pairs of black gloves.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos, comments and constructive criticism is always welcome.
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr: [D2Diamond](https://d2diamond.tumblr.com/)


End file.
